Summary: My fave type of fic-taking a scene and talking about it. My first, please review (I don't really care what you think of it)
Author's Notes: My first (published) fanfic. Just a piece I scribbled onto a legal pad (oh, irony). I apologize for any misspellings, I didn't have this proofread except by me and spellcheck. Call it beginners license. Please enjoy, hopefully I'll post more soon!!! (Curse this wretched and wonderful Mac)
The four figures in the back row seemed to tower above the others. Like everyone else, their expressions were somber. The handsome young Hispanic man seated on the far right was somber, tinted with what could have been remorse as the curtains slid open, revealing the tattooed and bitter man strapped to the table.
The man to his left was the oldest of the four, with a weathered, wrinkled face that was set in stone. His expression could have expressed anything from grief to grim satisfaction. His dark eyes seemed to hold some trace of pain, but that was no different from how the usually looked.
The dark haired young woman seated on his other side was easily the most uncomfortable. Her dark eyes darted neverously, resting on the doctors now filing out of the small room before them and then darting away. Her hands, barely visible over the shoulders of the man in front of her, clenched and unclenched periodically.
The salt-and-pepper haired man seated beside was the poster child for a death penalty advocate. His weathered face was the picture of righteous anger, his dark eyes glittering fiercely. As the tubes sticking out of the man's arm began to fill with blue liquid, slowly oozing, his face didn't change.
As the steady beat of the heart monitor turned into a shrill, piercing note, Rey's youthful face took on a look of deep remorse. It was almost possible to hear the prayer running through his head. Lenny closed his eyes briefly, his face a mixture of resignation and bitterness. Claire's troubled face seemed, if possible, to become even paler than usual, and her body stiffened. Beside her, Jack's face didn't change. It remained that picture of justice, stoic and unfeeling. But the hand he slipped over Claire's hadn't moved either, as the doctors moved forward and the curtains closed.
Finis